


thou and i are too wise to woo peaceably

by Twilys



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Meetings, Modern Era, smitten gilbert, the Carrots incident
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 13:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30022182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilys/pseuds/Twilys
Summary: But really, what could you do when the most beautiful girl that you’ve ever seen casually comes in when you’re carrying a sack of potatoes?OR: the Modern Shirbert Marketplace AU.
Relationships: Diana Barry & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, background Ruby/Moody
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	thou and i are too wise to woo peaceably

**Author's Note:**

> titles are taken from Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing  
> in this AU the Blythe-Lacroix farm is just outside Kingsport, so Gilbert doesn't know anyone in the Avonlea school gang BUT they are mostly all here, studying
> 
> without further ado...

It was a crisp winter’s morning in Kingsport, the week before Christmas. 

It was early, far too early. During his rare vacations, albeit rare, Gilbert dearly liked to sleep in; after all, slumber was a rare commodity in medicine school. But he hadn’t been able to resist Bash’s call for help, who needed any hands he could get to help out on the market. 

The success of their turn to organic had been a welcomed surprise. Gilbert knew how much care and love Bash put in what was now their farm; he was glad the customers could see it, too. The cost of their success was busy hours, growing and selling their goods. Having Elijah on the farm had helped Bash, but the holidays season nearing made everything busier. Thankfully, Gilbert was done with pre-winter break terms; as soon as he had gotten home from Toronto, he switched his sterile latex gloves for gardening ones, and dug in.

Usually, it was Hazel that came to the market with her son. Gilbert had volunteered to take her place so she could watch over Delphine, home for the winter break as well. He began to regret that choice when came the time to unload the seventh sack of potatoes. Seriously, how did they keep running out of those? Wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his old, ‘get down to work’ jacket, Gilbert wondered if there was somewhere he could get coffee. Probably; Kingsport had a university.

He still had work to do first. Gilbert hauled the sack on his shoulders then jumped out of the van. The vehicle was slowly emptying itself; he would have to secure the empty crates for their way back.

Gilbert stepped into the market proper and made his way among the many patrons. The van’s parking lot was only a few paces from their stall, but the marketplace was brimming with people. Families and couples and friends; he heard fifty different conversations of recipes and holiday plans as he tried to push through. The idea of food bringing crowds together was endearing, Gilbert thought, enough to balance his annoyance. It was a sharing of warmths, of all kinds, dearly needed in the Canadian winter.

And then, she appeared out of thin air.

She was an artist’s vision, from the fiery red of her hair to the peacock blue of her cloak. She was graceful, Gilbert could tell, even from the distance that separated them; she wasn’t pushing his way through the crowd, as he was, but rather dancing with it, stepping in the empty spaces left by its movement.

That she had walked in their little corner of the marketplace would have been the normal way to say it, but that didn’t fit her. Waltzed in, perhaps? Yeah, that was more like it. 

Gilbert snorted. That was just like him, to get caught up in semantics and methodical descriptions in such a situation. But really, what _could_ you do when the most beautiful girl that you’ve ever seen casually comes in when you’re carrying a sack of potatoes?

The answer was, apparently, nothing whatsoever. The girl, or woman —she looked about his age— passed in front of him, barely noticing him. Which was okay, really, all things considered; Gilbert was almost sure he would have made a fool of himself if she _had_ spoken to him. 

The woman paused in front of their stall, signalled by their pretty _Blythe-Lacroix’s Orchard_ banner, and began her browsing. He deposed his potato burden in the right cask then ducked back into the van. 

After a short while of inventorying and sorting empty cases, his curiosity got the better of him. Carefully, he arranged a pile of vegetable cases to shield him from everyone noticing that he was staring at one of the customers. 

He couldn’t help it; the stranger radiated an ethereal grace that had him completely mesmerized. Rationally, the doctor-to-be knew that magic and spells and enchantments did not belong in busy Kingsport; but if the stranger told him she was really a fairy, descended from her realm to buy ingredients in order to brew a healing potion for a forest friend, he would not doubt it one second. In fact, he would volunteer to test it himself.

“Oi, earth to Blythe!” Bash’s voice called from somewhere near, startling Gilbert out of his reverie. “We’re needing a refill.”

He looked around to find his brother next to him, handing him an empty crate. Gilbert took it and deposed it in the van, exchanging it for a full one he brought back to Bash.

“So, want to tell me what had you so up in the clouds that you didn’t notice me waving?” Bash said, taking the crate. “Or heard me calling, multiple times?”

“Sorry I…” Gilbert trailed off, glancing towards the stranger.

He was half-afraid she would have vanished while he wasn’t looking. That wouldn’t have surprised him, but he was relieved to see she was still very there, in the same plane of existence as he.

She had stopped her browsing to greet one of the patrons and was speaking animatedly to her. He could almost make out her voice; it shouldn’t surprise him how sweet it seemed to sound. She spoke fast and used a lot of hand gestures, which made her even cuter. Emotions flickered on her face as the conversation went on, and he wondered what it would be like if she were speaking to him… 

Shit, Bash.

Gilbert tore his eyes from the stranger to look back at his brother. Sure enough, he had noticed where his gaze had been. Gilbert cursed under his breath, which made Bash raise an eyebrow in addition to the full-on grin he was sporting. Gilbert knew that smile; it meant he was about to get teased to death. Well, at least he had seen the stranger before he died.

“Um, did you need something?” Gilbert tried to deviate the subject, with not much hope.

“Nice try, but there’s no getting away, you moke. How long have you been making goo-goo eyes to the lady, eh?”

“I’m not… I was just looking!” And imagining a great deal, but Bash didn’t need to know that. “You are seeing way too much into this.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Your face tells me everything I need to know.” 

Gilbert’s scowl deepened, which made Bash laugh. He was never going to hear the end of it. At least the stranger was out of hearing —it was bad enough Gilbert had been outright staring, she didn’t need to know about it. Nor to witness him being ridiculed by his brother.

“Hey, you know what?” Bash picked up, innocently enough. “Switch jobs with me.”

“Uh? Why—” Gilbert started, turning to the cashier stand. 

A line was already forming, and at the end of it…

“The lady’s a very faithful patron, so please don’t make me regret my decision.” Bash said, shoving him to the customers. 

“Can’t you tell me her name then?” Gilbert pleaded, panicking.

“Nope! Make me proud, you moke!” His treacherous brother snickered before disappearing in the van.

Gilbert glared at his retreating form then put on his best customer service smile and greeted the first patron in line. Faces began to blur as he small-talk his ways into loading, ringing and accepting the payments. In between smashing the prices for apples and carrots and pears and every goods their farm produced in an aging cashier unit, Gilbert managed to sneak a few glances to the stranger. She had taken out a big old hardcover book and had her nose stuck in it. She looked positively enthralled with it. 

So immersed, in fact, that the pretty stranger was apparently alone in her own world, widely unaware of the fact that she was the next in line. No amount of signing from Gilbert’s part could change that. 

Emotions flashed on her face as she drank in the words and turned the pages. It was cute, Gilbert admitted, but if he wanted to possibly avoid being further teased to death by his obnoxious brother, he should get a move on and do his job already. 

To himself only, Gilbert admitted he would very much like to talk to her, not in fantasies, and he needed the stranger to notice him for that.

“Hello miss, what can I get for you?” No answer. “Hey, miss! Miss?”

Desperate means to desperate needs, right? Gilbert reached out to tug on one of the stranger’s braids and added without thinking, “Hey, Carrots!”

That brought her down to earth, Gilbert saw with satisfaction. What was less satisfactory was the fury on her face, which made the boy realise he could have chosen his words better. Her basket crashed on the ground and suddenly his fairy was a wronged goddess, fully intended on avenging herself. 

“How dare you!” she yelled, her eyes flashing with anger.

And whack! The cover of her book smacked Gilbert in the face with enough force to send him tumbling. 

What happened then, Gilbert knew because Bash told him. Alerted by the sound, Bash only had time to rush out of the van to see a red-headed woman stomp angrily out of the marketplace and Gilbert, staring slack-jawed after her and nursing his jaw. 

Eventually, Gilbert ran out of things to delay telling what happened. Reliving it all made him more and more ashamed at his conduct, but it was too little too late. When he was done, Bash did the only fitting thing for this moment.

He facepalmed himself.


End file.
